Saturday, August 20, 2011

On Monday, August 8th, I was contacted by a company and asked if I had any interest in leaving my offshore job in Louisiana and taking an offshore medic position based out of Bergen, Norway. As soon as they said "all travel is paid" I was in. After a couple days of paperwork, interviews on Skype, and contract review I was good to go. I just had to make a side trip to Dubai first to get a medical exam and a little bit of training on documentation procedures.

On the 12th I flew from Indianapolis to Dulles (DC) then on to Dubai, United Arab Emirates. It was about a 13hr flight which took us over Iceland, Ireland, Britain, most of Europe, Turkey, Iraq, Kuwait and the Persian Gulf.

When I saw we were over Iraq I took the chance to get up and use the bathroom. My hope was that the plane's toilet leaked and I was able to piss on Iraq from 30,000ft.

I got into Dubai around 7pm Saturday evening, local time. After wandering around the HUGE Dubai airport (I'd guess the main terminal is about 4,000,000 miles long) I finally found my bag and set about finding my ride. After about an hour of searching, a phone call to the hotel, and more searching I finally located him.

During the ride to the hotel I got a sudden reminder of how horribly people drive in foreign countries. ("Seatbelts, kids!") I'd also forgotten how balls hot it is in the Middle East. The last time I'd felt this kind of heat was when I had a 3 day pass to Doha, Qatar while deployed for Iraq. The UAE sits at just about the same latitude as Qatar, just across the Persian Gulf a bit to the east. Go ahead and look at a map…I’ll wait.

My driver dropped me relatively unscathed at The Layia Plaza Hotel and I checked in. Whilst doing so the desk clerk informed me that "Everything is covered by your company except the mini-bar in your room and alcoholic beverages. Unfortunately, if you're looking for a drink it will be hard to find as it is the holy month of Ramadan." Thus my dreams of grabbing a beer and going to bed were dashed. A steward carried my bag and escorted me to my room. Saying the hotel was nice doesn't even begin to describe it. And I’m not going to describe it either. If you’re lucky I’ll show you pictures sometime. Just imagine something real nice (Clark) until then.
At this point I was tired, confused about what time it was, and hungry.

So. Damn. Hungry.

I opened up the room service menu and soon found out that things at this hotel were not cheap. But since I was not paying for it I decided "screw it" and ordered a whole pepperoni pizza, a shrimp cocktail, and a coke with ice (you have to specify you want ice). About 20 minutes later a Filipino man appeared at my door, in a bright yellow coat and little bow tie, and carried a tray into my room. He then proceeded to lift the silver lids off of both dishes like he was goddamn Harry Houdini and he'd conjured that food out of thin air. Lastly he poured my coke into the glass of ice and darted to the door. I gave him $2, mostly because I only had a little cash on me for a tip, and partially because he hovered at the door waiting for it. Upon giving him a tip he handed me the bill to obtain my signature. As I signed it I noted the price of $94 USD. Holy shit, Batman. I'm really glad I didn't have to pay for that.

Even the worst pizza I've ever had, like a bad blowjob, was still pretty awesome. This was by far the worst pizza I've ever had. There is likely something lost in translation from the Italian cook book to the Filipino chef working the kitchen in hotel in Dubai. That being said; I devoured that motherfucker. The shrimp was supposedly locally caught and tasted pretty much like all other shrimp I've ever had, other than it might have been caught about 2 weeks prior to being served to me.

After updating all social media sources (facebook & twitter), that I was alive, I went to bed. I slept about 4hrs and then my biological clock decided I needed to wake up. I took the opportunity to get something to eat before the sun came up. During Ramadan the Muslims do not eat from sun up until sun down. Thus the United Arab Emirates, being predominantly Muslim, doesn't have a lot to offer in the way of food for Westerners during the day. Even if you do find something that is serving it is considered bad form to eat in front of Muslims as they're fasting. Also, no smoking. Water. Water is about your only option. I made my way downstairs and found a sizeable buffet set up.

I had the veal. Not because I necessarily wanted it, but solely because it was an option and I wasn't paying for it.

I then took a brief walk around the block and went to the ATM. Dubai is one of the cleanest city I've ever seen. Certainly a world of difference from the filth filled streets of Abu Ghraib village and the crowded, crazy streets of Baghdad.

Around 9am I had the front desk get me a taxi to the main offices of my new employer for "induction." The cab fare was around 12.5 Dirhams (Arabian Emirates Dirhams), which is roughly $4. I'd taken out $300 Dirhams from the ATM, so all I had were three 100 Dirham bills. The cabbie was aghast that I had no smaller notes and informed me that he had no change. I did still have $4 US so I gave him that. And that was REALLY the last US money I had.

I went upstairs and was met by my "handler." He arranges and tracks all of my travel and ensures that I have all the pertinent documentation to get in and out of whatever country I'm going to or coming from. He gave me a usual stuff to sign and read; Contracts, confidentiality notices, how to do my time sheet, how to turn in receipts for reimbursement, etc. Around 9:45 he called a cab to take me to the doctor for my pre-deployment medical exam.

So this cab takes me to the other side of the city of Dubai to the Dr. Sulaiman Al Habib Medical Center. It is located in an area called Dubai Healthcare City. And that is exactly what it was; a whole section of town full of hospitals, doctor's offices of every specialty, and radiology and cancer centers. I won't bore you with the medical exams and whatnot, but I do have one funny story about the first doctor that saw me. This particular doctor just so happened to have done her residency at Indiana University School of Medicine in Indianapolis. This got brought up when she saw my place of birth on my paperwork.

-Upon noticing the tag on my shirt: "Medium in America is large or extra-large in most other countries."

-Small talk: "Does Indianapolis still have that basketball team, the Pacemakers?"

-And a closing pearl for me: "If anyone asks where you're from say America. The only thing people know about Indiana here is that you have a 500 mile race that people used to care about."

Brutal. Funny, but brutal.

I also obtained a vaccination for Yellow Fever and had my World Health Organization book stamped to reflect as such. So now I'm pretty much up on all vaccinations that I need to go to any malaria infested, shithole on Earth (Yay!).

After all testing was completed I hailed a cab and returned to the office. En route there I did manage to get a few pictures (from very far away) of the World's tallest building.

So I got that going for me, which is nice.

Back at the office I did more paperwork, had to sit through a PowerPoint about the history of the company, and about an hour of learning how their 24hr emergency call center works.

The last thing I did was have a meeting with one Dr. Beau Dees. Yes, his real name is Beau Dees. This is really fun to say. Even funnier when you talk to him and he sounds just like the Black Night from Monty Python and The Holy Grail. Dr. Dees quizzed me on many common clinical ailments and then over emergency treatments. Apparently he'd forgotten that he'd given me these exact same questions the previous Wednesday morning when we talked on Skype. Still, he was a pretty tough sell, but I managed. Once this was completed I returned to the hotel.

By this time it was nearly 7pm and I had not eaten. The sun was just starting to set and I decided to walk around the corner to a supermarket I'd seen earlier in the day. A can of coke in the mini-bar in my room cost about $8, so I decided to just go buy some at said store.

Mistake #1: Going to a grocery store in a foreign country.

Mistake #2: Going to a grocery store in a Muslim country, during Ramadan, just after sundown.

Do you remember that scene from Gremlins when they're in the movie theatre and going nuts in the popcorn machine and candy in the concession stand?

That's what Muslims look like in a supermarket at sundown during Ramadan. It was like going to Wal-Mart the morning after Thanksgiving.
Only everyone is really hungry.

And these people probably have more teeth.

And they weren't obese.

It was nothing like Wal-Mart.

Roving packs of youths and housewives, all of whom are grumpy, have low blood sugar, and are very hungry, just grabbing food at random. I managed to grab the last 2 liter of Coke and went to wait in line.

Take a moment and imagine me, pale and Irish-American me, standing in line with Arab men and women (both in dresses), their arms full of food, as a Pakistani check-out clerk rings everyone up as quickly as he can, and me...just as white and American as I can be with a giant bottle of Coca-Cola.

I tried to blend in...But then I started laughing at how absurd this whole situation was. People in front of me crowded forward as I laughed. People behind me backed up. I imagine at this point, like spiders, they were more afraid of me than I was of them. I got to the front of the line, paid roughly $3 for the bottle of coke, and got the hell out of there.

After dropping the Coke off in my room I returned to the hotel's buffet and had dinner (another $80). Then I headed back up to my room. And that's when boredom and a bathroom with a bidet turned into a terrible experience.

In case you are not familiar; a bidet is essentially a toilet with a water fountain built into it to spray water at your ass after you've made brown pickles. It is EXACTLY as horrible as it sounds. I have no idea what part of getting ice cold tap water sprayed into your bunghole has to do with a satisfying bathroom experience. What I do know is that I tried it so you guys never ever have to.

You're welcome.

Shortly thereafter I was in bed because I had to be at the airport at 5am to make my 7:30am flight.

Total Time Spent in Dubai: 36hrs 35mins

On Monday I flew from Dubai to Munich, Germany on Lufthansa Airways. This flight was essentially uneventful aside from the fact that boarding a plane with a bunch of Germans might be the most frustrating thing in the world.

For quite a while I’ve marveled at the human beings’ ability to send a man to the moon, map our own genomes, and build things as great as, well, The Great Pyramids. Compared to those things I’ve always found it amazing that we have an innate inability to board a plane, quickly store our luggage in the overhead (or under the seat in front of you), and SIT THE FUCK DOWN.

It turns out our German friends are even worse at this game than Americans are. I shit you not, I was standing in the aisle for 15 minutes, not 3 rows from my seat, as 4 Germans argued and chattered over the magazine collection that was in the bin above their seats.

Upon arrival in Munich, Germany all the German passengers clapped, as if we’d somehow returned to the greatest place on Earth while simultaneously seeing one of those teaser bits with Samuel L. Jackson at the end of any of the new Marvel Comic Book movies.

Once I had deplaned I quickly found my way to a bar and got a couple drinks in me. Then it was on to Frankfurt, Germany. Sorta. We boarded…and waited…and waited. Because of this our plane was very late getting to Frankfurt and we actually got off of the plane on the tarmac, where an awaiting bus took those of us going to Norway straight to our gate.

I slept the whole 2 hour flight to Bergen, Norway and only woke up when the wheels hit the ground. What I wasn’t expecting was to wake up surrounded by mountains on nearly all sides of me. Norway is awesome.

What wasn’t so awesome was that due to my plane being delayed into Frankfurt my luggage had not made it to Norway. I was given an "Over-Nite" bag by the baggage claim attendant. This completely made everything okay because a small tube of toothpaste, a toothbrush, an XXL white undershirt, and a comb totally made up for them losing all my shit. I was assured by the airline that my bag would arrive around midnight and they would bring it to the hotel. Even less awesome was the fact that I could not find my ride to the hotel.

After a couple hours of waiting, calling, and more waiting I just went to the ATM, got out a couple hundred Norwegian Kroner, and got a cab to take me to my hotel. After grabbing a quick bite to eat at the hotel, and informing the desk clerk NOT to wake me up if my bag showed up, I went to bed.

The next morning I got up and made my way to the lobby. My bag had been delivered at some point during the night and I collected it from the front desk. Most of the crew of the seismic exploration vessel that I'm working on was already waiting in the lobby for our 7am bus ride to the port.

After a very scenic and twisting ride we arrived at the port and pulled into the dock. At this point I boarded and became familiar with the HUGE seismic exploration vessel called Asima. This is my new home/job.

So... As I write this we’re about 50 nautical miles northwest of the Shetland Islands. Or due North of Scotland somewhere. Whichever works for you. On board the conditions are very nice. There is a full gym (not interested), a sauna (kinda interested), and an entertainment room with Wiis and PS3s (pretty interested).

My day consist of waking up whatever time I damn well please, walking across the hall from my cabin to my office and surfing the internet. I have a handful of weekly reports (kitchen, eyewash stations, first aid kids, medical gases, etc.) that I have to file and that’s about it. Although the occasional sick person does come in and ruin my naps and time writing jokes about my poops on twitter. Of course I’m on call 24/7 for any emergencies, blah, blah, blah…

Friday, December 31, 2010

As we round out 10 years of fearing things like computer failures, terrorism, and almost weekly pandemics of alarmingly small proportions, I want to take a few minutes and talk about the latter.

"Tonight At 11, are your children going to die of this disease? Tune in!"

Ebola, anthrax, small pox, meningitis, MRSA, monkey pox, bird flu; No this is not the lead in to your evening news. All of the above listed diseases are very real, and very dangerous. Though your likelihood of ever contracting such disease is so minimal you, hopefully, do not worry about them.

If you do not fret about the above list you are living outside of the force fed, media induced, fear mongering society that our culture wants you to participate in. Good job.

If you do, read on and hopefully we’ll change that. Because, even if 3 people are reported to have The Plague in Nebraska, I still have to pay my bills.

"The Only Thing We have to Fear is...the Nightly News"

We’ve all intently watched as the polished newscaster tells us our children will die of any of the aforementioned illnesses. Who among us REALLY knows anyone that has died from these things?

Shut up random guy who does…We all know you also have an uncle who survived that car wreck only because he DID NOT have his seatbelt on and that’s why you don’t wear one. I’m not talking to you…I’m talking to everyone else.

But I digress…

A Few Examples of Over Exaggeration

According to the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) 774 people, of the 8,098 world wide who contracted SARS, died of it during the 2003 “outbreak.”

If you just imagined that monkey from the movie Outbreak scurrying around it's okay, I did too.

But, honestly, do we recall the media hype behind this disease? In comparison, motor vehicle collisions killed 6,675 people ages of 25-34 years old in the United States in 2003.

And the World Health Organization (WHO) estimates that 18,000 people died during the Bird Flu Pandemic. Worldwide. Which is totally scary when you take into consideration that Bird Flu accounted for almost 4% of the total 260,000 to 500,000 “normal flu” deaths that happen every year on this planet. Who knows what the death toll is like on Mars.

I mean, sure, we all expect “normal flu” to cut a wide swath through our elderly population…but if you put an animal’s name in front of flu…whoa! Look out!

I’m well aware of the damage the 1918 Flu Pandemic (which was really scary because it was the “Spanish Flu”) caused here in the United States (and around the world), but I also have a firm grasp on the technology, hygiene practices, and lack of understanding for the disease process that the medical community had in 1918.

I'd like to think we do a little bit better in those departments here in 2010/2011.

Briefly, I’d like to mention Monkey Pox. It was likely my favorite disease that we were “all gonna die of” in the last 10 years.

You got it from prairie dogs of all things!

We are so good at being scared that we even managed to make people scared of PRAIRIE DOGS at one point. U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!

So What Do We Do?

Life is about priorities, and as an EMS provider it is perfectly acceptable that you are far more acquainted with motor vehicle collisions than you are with the rare case of a hybrid Severe Acute Monkey-Bird Flu Respiratory Syndrome that seems to hit us almost every 6 months.

1. As your mother always told you: “Stop touching that and wash your hands.”
With all disease control, hand washing is the number one way to prevent the spread of illness.

2. Cover your nasty face holes when you cough.
Covering one’s mouth while sneezing or coughing is not only courteous but does volumes to prevent the spread of illnesses.

3. Your PPE (that you should be using on every run), proper hygiene, and careful cleaning and decontamination of your equipment will do volumes to protect you and your patients.
Oh yeah, while we’re talking about it, take that mattress off of your cot and clean under it. It’s gross under there.

The long and short of it boils down to this: Stop worrying about these diseases until the “Bring out your dead!” guy from Monty Python and the Holy Grail pulls up to your house with a cart full of “mostly dead” bodies.

You may now unlock the children from their crib and stop stockpiling duct tape and plastic visqueen to protect you from the numerous, natural biological terrors. You might want to check that crib for lead paint though.

The sky is indeed not falling and I promise you will be dispatched to a car wreck sooner than a Severe Acute Monkey-Bird Flu Respiratory Syndrome patient.

I do believe we have a duty the average citizen does not, to know about these diseases, and how to properly protect the public we serve. But congruently, I believe we’ve gone a little overboard on the “I’m freaking out, man!” scale.

It's currently at 11 and we need to dial it back to about a 4.

Have a Happy New Year (and decade) and let’s hope it’s a good one, without anymore fear. EOR-MW

1. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention: Basic Information About SARShttp://www.cdc.gov/ncidod/sars/factsheet.htm

Saturday, November 20, 2010

If you look in nearly any EMS text book you will find Trendelenburg’s Position defined as “a position in which the patient’s feet and legs are higher than the head. This is sometimes known as the 'shock position.'”

Dr. Friedrich Trendelenburg would argue that a “true” form of the position named for him involves placing the patient at a 45 degree angle with the head lower than the patient’s feet, with their legs bent at the knees and hanging off the end of a table. But he was also using the position to keep the intestines out of the pelvis during gynecological procedures and to reduce venous vein pressure during varicose vein surgeries. Little did Friedrich know that his simple to use position would later be called to use in the treatment of nearly all patients with signs of severe shock.

The March to War

It was not until the First World War, when a young American Physiologist, named Walter Cannon, was sent to Europe (with a medical team from HarvardUniversity) that Dr. Trendelenburg’s ‘Beckenhochlagerun’ (Raised Pelvic Position) found worldwide popularity.

Dr. Cannon set out to find ways to combat the effects of shock in wounded GIs. He popularized the use of the Trendelenburg’s position to increase venous return to the heart and thus increase cardiac output (CO). The simplicity of this treatment caused it to be widely popular and easily adopted. As such, it is still taught worldwide to this day.

Unfortunately Dr. Cannon’s announcement, ten years after World War I, was not so popular. After further study Dr. Cannon found the increased CO to be detrimental, along with creating complications with pulmonary function.

How did EMS get stuck with this?

Emergency Medicine’s love affair with Trendelenburg’s Position likely stems from the same place it finds many of its standard practices; military medicine. Through the years war has been the driving factor behind many innovations in emergency medicine including MAST pants and air evacuation. The former has been widely discarded while the latter has saved countless lives.

Since the early days of EMS the “shock position” has been there, always a reliable back up to use if a patient was hypotensive. And many still widely believe it to work, every time, without consequence. EMS, as with much in the world of medicine, will defend dogma vehemently until a respected authority tells them to stop. Or said dogma is specifically banned.

I posed the question, of why Trendelenburg is so hard to let go of, to Sean O. Henderson, MD, via email in 2007. Dr. Henderson was the co-author of a 2003 Canadian Journal of Emergency Medicine piece ‘Myth: The Trendelenburg Position Improves Circulation in Cases of Shock.’

Dr. Henderson wrote to me:

“The ‘shock position’ is very popular. In the allied health professions and we do not have a central clearing house for ‘dogma’ testing. MD’s are bad enough within our own house, but to imagine the tainted information that gets out to nurses and prehospital care providers is frightening.”

That said, a simple internet search will show that there is a movement amongst EMS community discussion forums to stop using Dr. Friedrich Trendelenburg’s famous position. But, there are always opposing views that support the “old tried and true.” Like basic first aid training from the American Heart Association, which still includes “elevating the legs to prevent shock” for a traumatic injury.

At the most basic level Trendelenburg’s Position is STILL being taught as the way to treat shock.

The continuation of this is further perpetrated by the NREMT curriculum and text books. Brady’s 10th Edition EMT-Basic text advocates the use of Trendelenburg in the event of shock, but is conscientious enough to advise the student not to use the position if the patient has a head injury. This is not only a simplistic, but dangerous view.

There seems to be a feeling of “We have always done it that way!”

Agreed, we have, but my grandparents also used to churn their own butter. Now I go to the store and buy it because it makes more sense.

Show Me the Money…er, Evidence!

-A 1967 study by Taylor and Weil found that Trendelenburg’s Position was associated with retinal detachment, brachial nerve paralysis, and cerebral edema. They also noted an alarming trend in compromised lung volume, which they attributed to the viscera placing pressure on the diaphragm.

- A 1994 study on oxygen transport found increases in left ventricle filling and blood pressure, while end tissue oxygenation was not found to be significantly changed. (So, in short, you’ve increased the blood pressure but, much of the patient’s tissues are still inadequately perfused. Which, last time I checked, is the most basic definition of “shock.”)

- A 1985 study by Bivins, Knopp, and dos Santos is even more alarming. They found that “a 1.8% (99% confidence interval, -1.3% to 4.7%) of the total blood volume was displaced centrally when subjects were placed in head-down position.” This small displacement was eventually determined to be insufficient and not indicative as an effective treatment of hypotension.

-Similarly a co-study between the Anesthesiology and Cardiac Surgery departments of Ludwig-MaximiliansUniversity, of Munich, Germany, concluded “Trendelenburg’s Position caused only slight increase of preload volume, despite marked increase in cardiac-filling pressures, without significantly improving cardiac performance.”

Dr. Sean Henderson summed it up this way, in the conclusion of our correspondence:

“I can’t completely rule out the use of the ‘shock position’ in all cases (such as some cases of cardiogenic shock), but I cannot advocate its use for hemodynamically unstable trauma patients.”

So where does that leave us? Dr. Henderson advocated a “modified Trendelenburg’s Postion with the patient’s legs raised 15-20 degrees while at the same time elevating the patient’s head 10 degrees.” Once an agreed upon alternative to the true Trendelenburg’s Position is reached the national curriculum will need changed. And reeducation of all healthcare providers will be needed.

In the interim EMS providers should consider intracranial pressures, restriction of pulmonary volumes, and increased cardiac workloads before placing a patient in Trendelenburg’s Position.

Old habits are hard to break, and a more thoughtful use of Friedrich Trendelenburg’s position will eventually prevail over simplistic ideas of just “tilting the container.” EOR. - MW

(Note: The majority of this was written in 2007. The author apologizes for any sources that may have been lost in the exchange of file formats and hard drive replacements)

Friday, November 19, 2010

For years I've always thought that I worked in EMS because it was the default. The default to my less than stellar performance at school. But I finally figured it out. And it was a comment from my brother, of all people, that made me realize it.

A while back he made a comment to a friend of mine that I'm always "Out saving the world." At first I thought of it as a vague reference to my Superman idolization. I then figured out that it had little or nothing to do with Superman.

I've always blamed myself for the death of my grandma.

Before I get into this I don't want any "I'm so sorry" comments or anything. This event in my life made me who I am today. Its carried me into this field and I realize this is where I am supposed to be.

It was 1992 and I was 9 years old. I had come home from school and started on my homework. I remember mom calling my grandparent's house a couple times and getting no answer. She told me to hurry up with said homework and then we'd go over there. I do recall the homework was math. (This might also be some underlying reasons as to why I still hate math to this day.) After nearly 2 hours I finished my homework and we drove the 6 miles to their house.

At the time my grandfather was already terminally ill with cancer, but had decided to stay at home for his final days. The home that sat in front of the business he and his father had started nearly 50 years earlier. Grandma was his primary caregiver and I'm almost certain some form of a hospice nurse came a couple times a week. Time has taken its toll on all of the memories.

I remember having to pee.

As we came in the door I saw Grandma sitting in a chair staring at Grandpa. He appeared to be sleeping. I recall mom saying something to Grandma and getting no reply and then hurriedly trying to get to the phone. I blocked her way, thinking that she was trying to get to the bathroom before me. I ran to it and locked the door.

It wasn't until I heard mom crying that I realized something was NOT right. Everything after that seemed to move so slowly. We waited for the ambulance to arrive and mom kept saying "Momma, no! Please, Momma no!" And I remember Grandpa, in his frail state, standing and walking across the room to touch her face. I don't think I ever saw him stand again. But not only did he stand, but he walked. Walked in the same "Grandpa" gait he had when he was healthy.

I remember the cot.

A flood of vehicles soon arrived at what I now jokingly call the "Gardner Family Ranch". I don't even recall seeing the ambulance but I do remember the stretcher. And I remember seeing my cousin Jeff. As we are all members of the Fire Dept/Ambulance it is still not uncommon for us to have mini-reunions at the scene of a car wreck or our weekly meetings. Though it's rare that I'm home anymore to attend them.

The thing I kept thinking the entire time though was "I wish I'd gotten done with my homework quicker." I now know that most stroke victims have about 3 hours to get to the hospital. After that 3 hours most "clot busters" won't work or permanent brain damage has already taken hold. And as I sit here and type I think about the state of my grandma's health. Surely she wasn't taking care of herself to well because she was worrying about Grandpa.

I can't remember the exact time frame, but it seems like she died about 4 days later. She did wake up in the hospital. I do remember that. I remember mom telling the story of my great aunt coming in the room and the nurse asking "Do you know who this is?" And my grandma giving the nurse a "Duh!" look. She wasn't able to speak, that is the other thing I remember.

Lastly I remember dad picking me up at school and telling me she had died. A task which he was forced to repeat almost exactly a month later when Grandpa died.

But overall I remember that damn math homework.

Math has long been the bane of my existence. Its not that I'm actually that bad at math. Most of the time while studying it and doing practice problems I'm fine. But the pressure of a test was normally too much for me to take. I'm likely to just put an answer down so I can get done.

But I digress. The reason I do what I do is this:
I never want to delay the care of anybody's loved one for any length of time. I've dedicated myself to working at places where time is of the essence. Minutes count and so does the treatment.

The outcome of my Grandmother's stroke would not have been any different had I not had homework...at least I think.

And that inkling of doubt is what makes me do what I do.

Many years later I worked in a nearby ER, as a tech. One day my Grandfather's uncle's wife came in. Technically Great-Great Aunt (I think). She was confused and upset. Shaking uncontrolably. As I triage her in I noticed her last name was the same as my grandparents. I made comment to her son (a cousin of some form?) that their last name was my mom's maiden name. After telling him who my mom was he informed me of the family connection.

My grandpa had 3 uncles who were much younger than his father (my Great Grandfather). Of the three of them one is still living and WELL over 100 years old. The other two died in 2000 and 2003. One in his late 90's and the other was about 102.

The Great Great Aunt, who was hard of hearing, was assured that she was in the hands of family and we'd take care of her. Later that night her son had to go home and I sat beside her bed to talk to her. I asked her if she knew Earl, my great grandfather.

She replied: Girl Scout Cookies!?!?!
M: No...Earl G***** (louder so she could hear it)>
GGAunt: Yes, he was my brother-in-law.
M: Do you remember Raymond and Verna Vee?
GGAunt: *Smiles really big and says* We used to play cards with them!
M: They are my grandparents. I'm their last grandchild.
GGAunt: "Oh...goodness. I'll bet you are a good boy. They were good people."

About Me

I am a 29 year old remote site/offshore Paramedic whose life
consists mostly of random thoughts and awkward moments. Hilarity ensues.

I split my time between my home in Indiana, where I occasionally work
the street and from time to time fight fire, and West Africa.(I'm also a
Marine Combat Veteran of the War in Iraq.)
Twitter: @MattTheMedic